The Golden Pocketwatch
by Lost.Darkness.Angel
Summary: Christine Daae, once captured at a young age on her trip to Fance, is instead sent to Persia, narrowly escaping being sold as a slave. What will happen to her when her arranged marriage to Prince Raoul turns into a catastrophy bc of a Masked Magician?
1. Prologue

Prologue

They had been at sea for three days, bound for France when the tragic event happened - causing to change the little Christine Daaé's life in its entirety. The large Scandinavian fields she used to play in, the sound of the sea and the sound of her father's violin would soon fade from her memory as if the life she had known until now had never existed.

The little five-year-old girl stood on the edge of the deck, looking out onto the large blue sea in awe. Her tiny fingers grasping tightly to the railing as she looked down at the water splashing against the boat but failing to make it move. Occasionally she would also see several fish jumping out of the water and she tried to count them even though she didn't know her numbers well. "One, two, three, five, seven, fifteen…." It was then when Christine had just seen the sun setting over the horizon that she noticed another strange ship coming directly towards her. She had never seen any ships of this genre before and did not think it normal for one like this to be here. It had intricate gold carvings on its sides that glinted in the dim sunlight, and its veils billowed almost violently with the wind, making the ship very quickly.

"Papa! Papa! There's another boat coming this way!" she cried while running to him. M. Daaé looked off to where the sky met the sea and saw that there was indeed a foreign boat approaching very quickly.

"Stay here, Christine, and I will come back as soon as I go tell the Captain. He will know what to do." And in an instant he was gone. Christine waited for his father to return, knowing that the Captain did not want her in his quarters for fear that she may break something, but as the minutes passed she grew more and more nervous as the boat came closer. "Papa!" She yelled for him to return, but by the time he came out from the Captain's office the boat, it was too late. The strange ship had positioned itself next to their own ship. Its men were of dark skin and dressed in spectacular linen robes…something that one usually sees only in the Middle East. These were very likely from Persia by the look of the designs on their clothing.

The Persian men screamed and yelled like savages as they jumped onto the boat, causing Christine to shake with fear. The young five year old girl tried to hide herself behind a barrel of food merchandise, but screamed when she felt two hands grab her around the waist and hoist her up into the air. She kicked and screamed in the effort of trying to escape the man's tight grasp. Christine's father, enraged at the man treating her daughter like a stuffed doll, grabbed a discarded plank of wood and threw himself upon the man, beating him with it to try to nock him unconscious. "Let go of my daughter you monster!" The Persian man threw Christine onto the floor and rounded on the girl's father, knife wielded. He said something in Persian in an enraged tone and stabbed him in the stomach faster than the blink of an eye. Christine stared up at his father in horror, and everything seemed to be happening so slowly now - his grasp slowly loosened on the wooden plank until it fell onto the floorboards with a resounding thunk. He stood staring at the man, still trying to push the dagger in further even though it would not. His whole body seemed to be shaking from the searing pain in his stomach, rising up his esophagus. He could taste blood in his mouth but refused to cough it up as Christine was watching him, horror-struck. He looked over at his daughter and gave her a weak smile, his heart breaking at the idea of her alone in the world at such a young age… or that he wasn't able to save her life if they were planning to kill her next. Despite all the pain, his eyes were still filled with his undying love for her. His knees collapsed and he fell onto the floor soundlessly, his body motionless and his eyes still filled with love his daughter that he can no longer see.

Christine let out an agonized sob, still not having understood that his father was no longer alive. The Persian man turned to the little girl, wondering whether he should kill her or take her back onto their ship as they did with the others. He grabbed Christine and raised his knife.

"Stop! One more can't hurt," shouted another man in the same Persian language. Christine trembled with fear as she stared at the silver dagger glinting above her head, tears streaming down her face, afraid to die. She then couldn't understand why the man was lowering his dagger and putting it away, but soon found out that she wasn't going to be killed after all. The man picked her up again in the same manner and carried her onto the boat, then set fire to the boat to destroy the evidence. There was another young man who knew how to speak a little of the captive's own language. He smiled widely at all of them as their wrists were bring tied up by another man. Opening his arms to them in a welcoming manner, he told them, "Persia! Land of Kings, Queens, Princes, and Princesses. You will like much!" Perhaps she would be all right, she thought. But little did she know that it was also a dark place, where slavery, death, and poverty thrived within its walls. The one thing she could not understand was, why were her wrists being bound together while the man in front of them was smiling?

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I was a bit nervous when writing this, as I am not very good with writing in 3rd person. o.o I hope you guys will like it. Comments are appreciated! I am currently working on editing the second chapter... so that will be coming very soon.


	2. The Golden Palace

Chapter Two – The Golden Palace

I still remember very clearly the time I first laid my eyes on the beautiful city called Persia. I was so tired from the trip on the boat, and even more so from the tip by cart, that I had fallen asleep a few hours before arriving. When I woke, I saw before me an enormous palace that shone gold in the blazing sun. One could very likely see it from miles away. In fact, it was quite blinding to one who had just awoken.

As the cart passed through the gate of the walls surrounding the palace I was astonished to see how many marketers were trying to get what they could from any potential buyer. All around there was chaos – dogs were chasing chickens, occasionally a cart would fall over and all of its contents would spill out onto the road, there were even young children that cried as they desperately looked for their mother or father, their tiny voices unheard over all the shouting. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before.

Everything changed once we passed through the gate to the palace - there were only few people compared to before, and these were obviously of high wealth. There were also spectacular flowers of deep reds, purples, and yellows. How many roses grew there too! Their reds, whites, and pinks illuminated the entrance and gave a wonderful sense of life and warmth to it. It was so different from the world outside those walls. Here, everything seemed so calm. The only noise that one could hear was the light chirping of the native birds. However, my sense of awe was cut short when the cart driver told us to all step out. As soon as we all did, he pushed us to walk down the enormous entrance hall to the largest door that I have probably seen in my entire life. It was large even for a grown man… imagine for such a short girl as I was. Beyond the door there was an even bigger hall where at the end sat a young man in a throne. His face had a very unyielding appearance, and his posture was strong. This man was the Sha.

The cart driver instantly bowed down, his head nearly touching the ground. I learned later that it was of great disrespect not to bow down to the Sha. He was greater than all other men, and those who did not respect that would be punished. "Master, I have retrieved some new slaves. They are of light skin. Are they of your liking?" The Sha carefully looked at each one of us for what seemed to be ages. I supposed he did not ask us to bow, for we were foreign to their way of life. What surprised me as he looked at us was that his eyes kept drifting back to me, and when he finally spoke, his voice seemed to be coming from that of the walls around me. It was such a powerful voice. It could easily make anyone tremble from fear.

"Bring me the girl."

I did not know why he wanted me to step closer to him, mainly because I could not understand the language they spoke, but when I walked up to him he stepped down from his throne and kneeled down so that we were of the same height. He then looked at me carefully in the eyes. The voice that I heard then was as gentle as the wind.

"Sharay…" This was the name that I learned to call my own, and he, the man I learned to know only as father. And for the first time, I bowed down to him.

Fifteen years later, the memory of my few years living with my real father had faded from my memory and all I knew was living in this palace. I had now become the Sha's eldest and most beautiful daughter, as well as the one to inherit the throne. My old name, Christine, could not be used, and I was known only as Princess Sharay. I could rarely see other people - the only time I spent with others was in the Harem, where I would learn many things such as music, dance, weaving, and other women's jobs. I had also learned their language perfectly within a few years of tutoring. But most of all, I had grown to know nothing other than that life… but something was missing from it.

I found myself sitting beside the Sha's throne on a pile of velvety red pillows, dressed in beautiful blue silk clothing. It was two hours past midday and it was the time when all of the Sha's entertainers would come and perform. There were wide ranges of performers: dancers, musicians, and actors. Many people from all parts of Persia came to the palace to watch. Watching them fascinated my eyes. I could not conceive what sorts of performances there may be all around the world. I dreamed of one day sharing with hundreds of spectators the talents that I possessed. Oh, what I could have given for that dream! That day, however, there was a new entertainer. He was the world-known masked magician. A genius. He was unlike anything anyone has ever seen. Nothing I could have seen could have prepared me for such a performance.


	3. The Masked Magician

The Masked Magician

His name was Nadir. He was the head of the first section of the Persian police, sent to find me. I was quite famous all over the world at the time. Many people were left dumbfounded to my simple tricks and games, but many more were horrified to see what monster lay behind the mask. People would come from miles around just to see the masked magician… but I could not believe the news had reached so far as Persia.

Nadir arrived at the freak show while it was, at the time, in central Romania. I daresay he was quite startled when he first saw me sitting in my red tent all alone…my white mask contrasting dangerously with the red fabric all around. I remained as calm as I usually am as I listened to what this man wanted from me. I explained to him that the show was over and we were not open to customers after-hours, and that he should have left in that instant; but he remained as he was (though still nervously. I believe I could see him trembling slightly) and told me the Sha of Persia wanted to see me perform. It took me some time to decide whether to leave or stay, but in the end I was glad of my choice.

The trip was a long and tiring one by horseback. It took several weeks until we arrived to the Golden Palace. During this journey, I grew to like the Persian man. I learned that he had been working for the Sha for nearly ten years, but he unfortunately did not have enough money yet to move into a better home for him and his sick son. I also gained a sense of the rules one must obey while in the presence of the Sha – laws that I did not agree with at all and did not intend to follow.

When we arrived, to my surprise, the Sha was expecting a performance at once. Nadir explained that it was to test the preparation of the performer. I was not worried. He showed me into the main hall and found it completely filled with spectators from all corners of the country. I grinned inwardly as I glanced at all of them – it was quite a powerful sight to see nearly five hundred heads turn in the same direction all at once, all looking at the same mysterious figure that had just opened the doors to the room.

I silently made my way down the isle towards the Sha and looked at him in the eyes as if I were an equal to him. I refused to make myself seem inferior to a man who probably knew only half the things that I held in my mind. However, I did nod respectfully. Some people behind me whispered to each other… they had probably never seen such a person act so disrespectfully towards the Sha. I grinned to myself again with pleasure of insulting their senseless customs. I noticed that sitting next to the Sha, there was a girl – no, a woman. She was sitting on a pile of velvety pillows placed on the floor along with a few other women. Though, she was different from the others - she was not of dark skin and her hair was long, auburn, and in ringlets. I looked into her eyes… hazel. The delicate curves of her veiled face seemed so divinely perfect. She was the most beautiful thing my eyes had ever had the grace to meet.

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When he first stepped into the Hall, I was amazed at the almost aura-like sense of mysterious power he had around him. I did not expect him to have been wearing a mask, though. I could not understand why he would need to. Possibly, it was part of his act. It definitely helped in making him seem superior to everyone else in the Hall. I was shocked when he did not bow down to Father. It was a sign of great disrespect, and he didn't seem to care. However, no one seemed to scold him for doing such a wrong… it was almost as if he were in control of all the people that were in his presence. Then he turned to look at me, but he did not bow, nor even nod to me as he did with Father. He looked at me for what seemed to be ages. His gaze was so captivating. His blue eyes were as blue deep as the sea, one eye darker than the other was. Those eyes nearly seemed to tell a heartbreaking story that was somehow blocked by a wall within him. His eyes seemed as though they were looking right into me and reading my very soul. I cannot remember whether I held my breath during that time… but I remember that after he hastily pulled his gaze away from mine I was very light-headed. I could not explain why.

I watched him move back towards the center of the hall. He turned towards one of the spectators and pointed to them then calling him towards him. I can clearly remember the way that the spectator's movements changed as soon as the magician had pointed to him. The man almost seemed almost in a trance. All his movements seemed to cause him no effort at all. In fact, it nearly seemed like he was just about to faint onto the floor, or like he was walking in his sleep. His back slightly curved, but his head was straight… as if there was an invisible string holding it up for him. He did the same for another woman in the crowd. I was beginning to doubt what kind of a magician this was, as he had not done anything yet.

The magician then motioned for another woman to do the same, and then motioned for both of them to stop walking towards him. I was surprised to see that the two of them suddenly had very glazed eyes, as if they had been smoking Opium. For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. The magician's concentration still incredibly fixed on the two spectator's eyes. I noticed him raising his hand, palm down. He tilted it to the left, and the hypnotized man turned in that same direction, now facing the woman. It was as if the magician was using him as a marionette…only there were no strings present. He raised his other hand next to his other one, just as he did before, and when he moved them both this time, the two spectators bowed to each other. The Persian man took the woman's waist and her hand and began dancing with her. It was a dance unlike I had ever seen before. It was quick, violent, romantic, and beautiful – a dance that no one from this country could ever have known on their own.

Suddenly the silence was broken when the magician clapped his hands twice, and the dancers stopped dancing. When he clapped once more, they walked back to where they came. They looked as though they were just waking up from a nap, only they had been awake the whole time, neither did they wonder what exactly happened, for it looked as though they thought the performance had yet to begin.

The magician then walked out of the room. For a moment, I thought he was done, but he came back soon, this time carrying a human skeleton. I thought Father was going to send him out for doing this, but he continued sitting and watching the performer admirably. He brought the skeleton to the center of the room and stood it up on its feet. I could not understand what in the world he was trying to do with it… but I suddenly understood everything once I saw him let go of the skeleton. It was standing on its own. He remained close to the skeleton, his hands hovering about a foot away from it, and the skeleton started walking around the room. It walked to another spectator, grabbed a their hand, and shook it. It then started talking. I thought I must have been dreaming or losing my mind, but the skeleton was talking. I can swear my life on it.

"I am very pleased to meet you, sir," said the skeleton to the man he shook the hand of. It then raised its hands up towards the ceiling. "Such a nice home you have, I thank you for taking me in so kindly. I can promise you that I won't bother you much for food…."Even though the skeleton was talking, its mouth did not move. The sound just seemed to be coming from its head. The man who shook its hand stared at the dead but seemingly living object with terror, and for a moment, I thought he was going to faint; but the magician moved away from him just in time.

All of a sudden, the magician backed away from the skeleton completely, and as it started crumbling to the ground, a large blood red fire appeared below it and engulfed its bones entirely. It was both beautiful and frightening at the same time. The only thing was that… the magician was gone. I looked all around the room but he was nowhere to be found. All the spectators were wondering the same as well. Then, from the fire itself, seemed to come a voice. It was as clear and beautiful as a divine god's was. Or, something I was forbidden to believe in…it was like an Angel's voice. It was singing – but not in the language I had grown so used to… it was French. Goosebumps spread across my entire body as I listened to it. I had a feeling that I knew this song very well. I just could not remember why. It was the most beautiful song I had ever heard, and it was fantastic with the voice singing its notes. I realized the entire room had practically been put under a spell with his singing as they stared into the red fire, so was I. However, in the corner of my eye I noticed the cloaked man standing behind a large pillar at the side of the room. How he made the fire sing, I did not understand. This man was a complete genius… or a complete maniac. I continued staring into the fire when it turned black. The fire was black! Never in my life had I seen a fire change to a color like that. I stared, amazed at it, as it started dying out. When the flames had finally turned into a pile of ash, I failed to notice the magician come out from the pillar, but I did think I felt a rush of air behind me and going behind the Sha's chair, but I didn't bother to look. He was again in the center of the room, walking towards the ashes. I wondered why he was bending over and searching the ashes for something, surely there would be nothing in it. Or so I thought. From the ashes, he pulled out a couple gemstones (one a ruby and the other an emerald) and a golden pocket watch. He turned them over in his hand, looking at them as if for the first time, then looked up to the Sha.

"I do believe these are yours, sir," he said with a slight grin playing on his face. Father checked his pockets and obviously could not believe how this person had managed to take those things from him. The magician walked up slowly to Father and presented him with his things. "I don't understand how they could have managed getting in there…."

The Sha looked down into the magician's hand to make sure those were really his own things, and he nodded to himself, confirming they were his. He looked up at the man, a smile just about creeping onto his face. "Keep them," The magician stared at the Sha, not really understanding why he was given those things, but nodded to thank him. I understood that it was just an act of acceptance, to persuade the magician to stay here instead of departing right after this performance. The magician turned back towards the audience, placed his hand on top of his other to cover the items, and when he lifted his hand, the items were gone.

He stepped back down to the center of the room and bowed. I still can hear the spectator's loud cheer. In fact, I can hear the roaring as I am writing now. But out of all the people cheering in the room, I was probably the one who cheered the loudest. I was amazed by the brilliance of this man. I had never seen anyone like him in my entire life. Unfortunately, he left before I could get another look at him, and I had to return to the Harem. Oh how I dreamed of the next time I would be able to watch him perform!


End file.
